Blood Drunk
by Ruby Rosetta Red
Summary: One shot. Inspired by the season two finale and by the look in Mitchell's eyes during that kitchen scene. He's blood drunk and vengeful, the worst possible combination. Rated T for language. Please read and review :


**This is most definitely a one shot. Set around the season two finale. Remember the scene in the kitchen when Mitchell is off his face on blood post Box Tunnel? Remember how his pupils flash back during one shot, right before he tells George and Annie to leave? This is inspired by that one shot. The characters of Mitchell, Daisy, Annie and George belong to Lord Toby Whithouse and his band of merry writers and associated people. All errors are my own. Also written with inspiration by the Being Human Soundtrack- absolutely recommended. Love to hear your thoughts :)****Blood Drunk.**

* * *

Ah, the power of it, it's the best feeling in the world.

It's in me and part of me now. I can feel their memories, I can taste their emotion. That final spurt of panic, that rush of pure adrenaline before inevitable death gives the blood just that little bit of a kick. It's like that tiny punch of 'wow' when you down a particularly vicious shot of booze, when your eyes water, your nervous system flares and you feel, just for a second mind you, when you feel that you can take on anything and everything and beat it. It's just…like I said…it's just the best feeling in the world.

Now imagine that feeling magnified ten, twenty even thirty times over and you might just begin to understand why it's so hard to give up, harder still to turn your back on it.

As I get to my feet, I look around my room. Daisy left, poor, insane Daisy bless her. The sex was incredible. The rush of what we'd done and the amazing high that accompanied it. We barely made it into the house. She was pulling at my zipper before we were half way up the stairs. I'm sure there are cracks in the wall and that was before we got into the bedroom. It was pure adult no holds barred primal lust. It's her way to burn off the buzz and who was I to say no? Jesus, I'm beginning to feel hard again by just remembering. It was fast, it was brutal, and it was incredibly…sticky but God almighty the release was off the scale. For moments afterwards as I came back down, I was free, absolutely free.

Did the neighbours hear us? To be honest I don't care. I hope they did.

* * *

I watch the water swill down the plughole. It's a muddy red colour when it disappears. I'm clean again on the outside. You'll never guess what I've done unless you look closer.

If you dare.

I watch the flames devour the blood soiled bedding. I wait for the feelings of guilt and mortification to attack me in this quiet moment but they're hiding because I'm not feeling it yet. A voice at the very back of my mind tells me that I will, one day.

* * *

My head is stuffed full and overwhelmed. I can still feel their blood coursing through me. The sheer power of it is intoxicating. I've turned my back on my own kind for so long. I've had lapses, I've fallen back into old friendships and then eventually into older habits. Well I've tried the human way and all it's given me is pain, grief and heartbreak. It's just easier for me to accept who I am and live with it. It's harder to be human.

She appears in front of me. I hear her and I lift my head. I should know her because she's staring at me like she can't believe what she's seeing. Shall I show her what I am? - does she already know?

"The ghost" It comes to me like that. I get up and I look at her. She's pretty, no, scratch that, she's _beautiful_ but right now she's looking at me with big scared brown eyes. I remember that chilly little kiss the year before, that accidental little peck. I want more. I tell her I want to know what surprises she's hiding beneath that tight grey get up she's wearing that she's holding so protectively close. Is she a virgin? Is that it? Oh I'll soon change that for her. Purpose makes me stride towards her but she backs away and disappears through the kitchen door because there's someone else in the house.

_Fuck._

He comes into the kitchen a minute or two later. He looks like he has a purpose in mind. Will he notice? Will he care? I wonder what werewolf blood tastes like- never been that much into it to be honest but I suppose there's a first time for everything.

He tells her that I'm drunk. Oh he has no idea of just how much. He hates it when I get drunk but not like this. He hasn't seen me like this. I lift my head and stare at him. Has he noticed my eyes yet? I want him to. I want him to know what it is that I've done. He does look and I notice his little frown, he's not sure, he knows something has happened but maybe he just doesn't have the courage to ask because he won't like what he'll hear.

_Blood, revenge, power, death and an adrenaline rush like you've never ever seen before. _

It's beginning to fade a little bit; it's releasing its grip on me. Here it comes, the crash and after that comes the craving. That's the part I hate, that I struggle with. I hate the _wanting_. I hate wanting something I should never have. I tell him to leave, to take Annie and get out and to stay out of the cities. I see his frown, his first inkling that something horrible has happened and that something worse is about to. It's too much and I lower my head and I claw helplessly at the kitchen table surface.

I lift my head again when I hear the door slam shut. Silence greets me but it feels wrong. I get up and I run to my bedroom. I haul up the blind and I look out of the window as the car that holds them pulls away. She's looking up at me, still scared, still worried. Is she worried about me? Please don't be…Annie…please don't worry about me.

Annie. That's her name. I watch the car til it disappears from sight. I pull my head back in and I turn and I look at the pandemonium that's my room. It's untidy to begin with but right now it looks like hell's army has been unleashed in here. And it has been, of a kind.

I hear the first whispers in my mind.

* * *

_Lucy._

I let her get to me. I wanted to be normal, I wanted to be anything but what I am and as I stand in front of her, my face smeared with the blood of her colleagues, I see the expression in her eyes. I was an experiment to her, part of a cause. She has no idea what she's unleashed.

She's afraid when I grab her, when I tell her that I'm going to kill her. I don't want her to be scared, I want her to be terrified, piss in your pants terrified. I'm anticipating the taste of her, the warmth of her blood sliding down my throat; I want to revel in it. I don't want to care; I don't want to feel but then the pain starts, its strength brings me to my knees, brings tears to my black eyes. It's gripping, squeezing and tearing at me. What the hell is it? I can hear Lucy asking me what's wrong but I have to get away, I need to go.

_Annie…it's to do with Annie._

* * *

I hear George screaming at me and the rage subsides enough for me to see what I'm doing. I've got Kemp by the throat. I've got hold of him and his feet are clear off the ground. He's waiting for me to kill him, he's clutching his precious bible like a talisman and he's waiting for me to finish him. I hear George scream Annie's name, not in Annie's name, don't do this in her name he's telling me. I stare up at Kemp. I want his death, I want his suffering for all that he's done, I want him to feel just a tiny piece of what's happening to me. Rage makes me shake and then I feel George's hand on my arm. I look at him. His eyes are tear filled and red but full of pleading. Not in Annie's name…please God no. I look back at Kemp and I let go and watch him slump to the floor.

White hot rage boils over and erupts. It vomits out of me and I scream out my fury, my horror, my pain. Then it's gone.

I have to face the fact that my Annie is gone too.

* * *

We're in the middle of nowhere, the three of us. I look for her in every room. I expect her to appear, all smiles and comfort but she doesn't. She's gone, she's over _there_. I shiver and George and Nina think that it's from the unrelenting cold and damp conditions but only I know that it's not. It's withdrawal. I haven't touched a drop of blood since that day. I crave it with everything that I am, I'm sick with wanting it, my stomach cramps with pain but I resist. I have to, in Annie's name I have to resist. I listen to the radio news reports constantly and there's only one story dominating the headlines. When the wanting gets too much, I listen to that. It keeps me on that narrow path.

Like a bad penny Lucy shows up again. I thought we'd hidden our tracks but obviously not well enough. I see her standing beside the car and I feel anger swell inside of me. Then briefly I feel that need to connect, I won't call it love, it was never that, just pure _need_. I feel it now when I look into those eyes, into that face. I wanted her and I thought we could've had something but I remember and a barrier is thrown up. I can't. I won't. Despite that, I offer her refuge, even though she deserves every painful punishment imaginable, I offer her mercy.

I slip in her blood; I feel its warmth on my finger tips as I touch her face. It's flowing freely and invitingly. There's a hole in her chest and the coppery blood scent of it is almost my undoing. She's accepting of her fate, seems to be welcoming it and I envy her the release. I feel her heartbeat stop, her body relax in death. I turn my head and look over my shoulder. There's a door and I look down at Lucy again. I hear Nina exclaim and I look again and I see Annie. She grabs Kemp and she hauls him through that door and it's gone. They're both gone. I look up at George and he's just as incredulous.

Annie saved us.

_We'll get you back Annie._

She's trying to be brave but she's scared, I can see her fear. She's careful, quiet and she asks if we're okay. I miss her so much; it's like a physical pain. She puts her hands out onto the television screen and we do the same, we want that connection, we want her back here with us, where she's supposed to be.

Safe here with us.

_I'll get you back._

**_~FIN~_**


End file.
